


Michael's Birthday Wish

by teenageinvincibility



Category: Phlochte - Fandom, Swimming RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:25:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenageinvincibility/pseuds/teenageinvincibility
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Michael's 29th birthday and his boyfriend isn't there</p>
            </blockquote>





	Michael's Birthday Wish

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Michael's birthday, here's some plot-less fluff

"Where would you like to go?"

"Nowhere, Mom. Really. 29 isn't a big deal."

Debbie Phelps refused to let her son's birthday pass unacknowledged. "Michael Fred, if you won't help me, don't complain about the restaurant I pick and the people I invite."

“Four Seasons,” he said, thinking of the view from the rooftop. “And not too many people. Ten max.”

“Thank you, Michael.”

 

Looking down the table, which had more than ten people seated around it, Michael felt his insides warm. He was happy to be with the people he loved. But there was still a distinct emptiness, not only inside, but physically. Ryan seemed to take up space, always filling in the cracks so everything felt full and whole.

But Ryan wasn’t in Baltimore for Michael’s birthday.

He wasn’t allowed to be.

They’d had the same fight with their agents so many times that it was useless arguing anymore because it seemed scripted. Peter and Erica thought it was in the mens’ best interests that their relationship be kept out of the spotlight. Ryan and Michael hadn’t argued with them until after Michael retired. It just seemed stupid to them to keep hiding. But Erica and Peter, though they worked for Ryan and Michael, always advised against publicising their relationship until both men were out of the spotlight.

Michael just felt stuck. He was 29 and wasn’t even living with the person he knew he was going to marry. They weren’t even engaged.

Retiring was supposed to mean moving on with his life, but he was being held back.

His phone buzzed again in his lap and Michael waited until his aunt was done talking to look down at his phone.

[Ry: yo txt me when ur home]

[MP: yeah sounds gud]

[MP: i miss u man. wish u wr here]

[Ry: me too babe]

 

Michael made it through the rest of dinner, but his smile felt very forced. He knew his mom could tell, but he really was doing his best. Even Conor was shooting him worried looks, so Michael knew his best probably wasn’t cutting it.

“Thanks, Mom,” Michael said, kissing his mom on the cheek. “Really. It was really nice.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Have a good day tomorrow. I’m sure Ryan’s doing something nice for you since he couldn’t be here.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, the knot in his stomach tightening when his mom said Ryan’s name.

 

As promised, Michael called Ryan the second he got in the door, waving goodnight to Conor.

“How was dinner?” Ryan asked.

Michael flopped down onto his bed, closing his eyes so he could pretend Ryan was lying next to him instead of 300 miles away. “It was nice. But like you weren’t there.”

“Fuck, man,” Ryan sighed. “I wish I coulda been.”

“I know,” Michael said. He hadn’t meant to make Ryan feel bad. He knew it wasn’t Ryan’s fault. “This whole thing blows.”

“I could go for a good blow,” Ryan mused.

Michael laughed out loud. “It’s my birthday,” he reminded Ryan. “I’m the one that gets the blow job.”

“Maybe my gift to you is letting you put my dick in your mouth.”

Michael laughed again. Only Ryan had the ability to turn Michael’s mood around that quickly and effectively. Even though he’d been sullen for the last two hours, just hearing Ryan’s voice made everything better. His chest physically ached and Michael gripped his phone a little tighter since he couldn’t reach out and grab Ryan’s hand. It was the next best thing.

 

Bob and Allison had schemed to have a cake delivered to Meadowbrook the next day. The team sang Happy Birthday to Michael, who smiled along while feeling extremely uncomfortable. He blew out his candles, wishing, of course, for Ryan.

“What’d ya wish for?” Allison asked, elbowing him in the side and winking.

“A talking monkey.”

“You already have Conor,” she said, earning herself a wet willy from Conor himself.

They hung around Meadowbrook eating cake and talking, but all Michael really wanted to do was go home and Facetime with Ryan. Ryan had promised him something naughty.

So, after everyone had finished their cake, Michael thanked them all and went into the locker room to pack up his stuff. When he went to find Conor so they could leave, Conor hadn’t even changed out of his Speedo.

“Come on, dude,” he said, trying his hardest not to whine. “Ry’s waiting for me to call.”

“Yeah, yeah, hold on, lover boy.”

Conor took forever at his locker. First he spent ten minutes on his phone, which, Michael pointed out several times, he could’ve done in the car. Then he had to make a phone call. Then he had to wring out his Speedo in the sink because it was too wet to put in his bag. Then he had to run his towel under the hand dryer.

“Hang on, Mike, this’ll just take a second.”

“Conor, that is for hands. This is gonna take a fucking year. Let’s go!”

“Okay, okay,” Conor said, holding his hands up in surrender as he walked back to his locker. He took the time to carefully fold everything and put it neatly into his bag. “Ready?”

“I’ve fucking been - Yeah, come on.”

 

Michael pulled into his driveway, grabbed his bag from the back seat, and went to unlock the door. He found it odd that Herman wasn’t waiting to jump on him and demand dinner, but Michael didn’t think about it too much. He went into the kitchen, gave Herman some new food, and then walked up to his room.

He found Herman sitting outside his closed bedroom door. “What are you doing, man? Your dinner’s downstairs.”

But Herman just blinked up at him, wagging his tail. Michael pulled a face at his dog and then pushed his bedroom door open, Herman running inside. Michael dropped his bag by the bathroom door, flicked on the lights, and then stopped in his tracks.

There were candles lit on his bedside table. Two wine glasses and a bottle of his favorite wine were in an ice bucket on the opposite bedside table. Rose petals covered his bed. And Ryan, dressed in a tux, was lying right in the center of it all.

Michael couldn’t think of anything to say. He was just smiling.

“Come here, dork,” Ryan said, but he was smiling, too.

Michael crossed the room and climbed on top of Ryan, pressing their bodies together as he gave Ryan a tender kiss. Ryan rested one hand on the small of Michael’s back, the other knotting in his hair to hold Michael in place. Ryan liked that Michael’s hair was long enough for him to do that again.

“What are you doing here?” Michael asked against Ryan’s lips.

“It’s your birthday, right? Or did I get the wrong day? It’s hard to remember after ten  years.”

Michael bit Ryan’s bottom lip. “I just meant that you’re breaking the rules.”

“I told you I was doing something naughty.”

“We could get naughtier,” Michael suggested.

“You could also close your door,” Conor said from the doorway.

“Yo, get the - “

“I was just getting Herman,” Conor said, bending down to grab the dog’s collar. “You’re welcome.” He pulled the dog out of the room and closed the door purposefully behind him.

“Kid took for-fucking-ever to leave the locker room today.”

“Yeah, I asked him to. My flight got in late,” Ryan said, running his hand down the side of Michael’s face.

“Fuck, I love you,” Michael said, smashing his lips back against Ryan’s. Michael used one hand to support his weight, the other tugging on Ryan’s tie. “I feel so underdressed in my own bedroom.”

“Actually, I think we’re both a bit overdressed.”

Michael moaned as he pulled Ryan into a sitting position, never parting their mouths. He pushed Ryan’s jacket off his shoulders, loosened his tie enough to get it over his head, and then began yanking Ryan’s shirt so the buttons would unsnap.

“Yo, not to ruin the moment, but be careful, dude. This shirt’s Armani.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” Michael said, giving one final pull to expose Ryan’s chest, buttons scattering all over the floor. As Ryan freed his arms from the sleeves, Michael pulled his t-shirt off and then went about undoing Ryan’s belt.

Ryan palmed Michael through his shorts. He flipped them over so Michael was on his back, and Ryan kicked his pants off onto the floor. He kissed down Michael’s jawline, leaving a bruise where his neck met his shoulder, and then down Michael’s chest. He took Michael’s nipple lightly between his teeth, pulling slightly, and then continued kissing his way down. Ryan licked a ring around Michael’s bellybutton as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of Michael’s shorts, pulling them all the way down.

Ryan ignored Michael’s dick, slowly tracing each tattoo with his tongue. As much as it turned Michael on, it turned Ryan on even more. He loved those tattoos. Ryan sucked Michael’s head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Michael’s brain whited out. All he could feel was the wet warmth of Ryan’s mouth bobbing up and down on his dick. He knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

Michael rested a hand on the back of Ryan’s head, the other on the side of Ryan’s face. Unable to stop himself, he thrusted up slowly every time Ryan’s head sank down. He tapped Ryan on the shoulder, but Ryan suctioned his mouth around Michael, swallowing as Michael came down his throat.

“Happy fucking birthday,” Ryan said, climbing back up Michael’s body to kiss him.

 

A few orgasms later and a text to Bob saying he wouldn’t be at the pool tomorrow, Mike and Ryan sat curled in bed together drinking wine.

“Do you want your present now?” Ryan asked.

“What?” Mike laughed. “Dude, this was more than enough.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, setting down his wine glass to get out of bed. Mike grabbed onto his wrist, pulling him back. “Yo, if it involves you leaving this bed, I don’t want it until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow isn’t your birthday,” Ryan said, kissing each of the fingers Mike had wrapped around his wrist. He went over to his suitcase and pulled out a small box wrapped in purple paper. “Here.”

Ryan handed Michael the box, but Michael just looked at Ryan.

“Open it, dude,” Ryan laughed.

Michael slowly pulled off the paper, careful not to rip any of it, and found a black velvet box. His heart instantly sped up and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Okay,” Ryan said, taking the box from Michael. “Look, I’m not proposing, dude. But,” he flipped the box open to reveal a simple gold band. “It’s, like, a promise ring. I just want you to know that, even with Peter and Erica’s bullshit, like, I promise you that we will get married when the time comes. It’s sort of - “

Michael leaned over to kiss him. To let him know he understood. As much as he thought Ryan’s nervous rambling was cute, he wanted Ryan to know it was appreciated. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Ryan said, exhaling heavily. “Fuck, I was nervous. Like it’s not even an engagement ring.” He let out a breathy laugh.

Michael took the ring out of the box and put it on his right ring finger. Because his left was saved for the real deal. He stretched out his long fingers, admiring the ring.

“Gold,” he smiled.

“It’s no medal,” Ryan smiled, “but - “

“It’s perfect.”

 

When they finally decided to go to bed, Ryan pressed his back against Michael’s chest, and Michael wrapped his right arm around Ryan’s middle. He pressed kisses to Ryan’s shoulder and the back of his neck until he felt Ryan’s breathing even out. Using the moonlight shining through the window, Michael stretched his arm out to watch out his ring gleamed in the light.

“Go to bed or I’m taking it back,” Ryan mumbled, but he smiled since Mike couldn’t see his face.

“You’d have to fight me for it.”

“Been there. I won, remember?”

“Goodnight, Ryan.”

“Happy birthday, Mike. Goodnight.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get this posted while it was still Mike's birthday. I have 10 minutes to spare! So sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.


End file.
